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slytherinspired · 3 years

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This Is Farewell - A Remus Lupin Imagine

It’s me again. I’m on fire! Okay, so this one is kind of related to my first series Tell Me About. Although there are some details that are not coherent with the first direction I took with Tell Me About, it’s still inspired by it, if that makes sense? And it’s kind of a rewriting of Heal Together. .

HOWEVER, if you do not want to read the thing, here’s a spoiler: Around OOTP, Sirius has a thirteen year’s old daughter with his first love, and he had no clue about her existence, until a couple of days ago, and he’s angry with Remus, because-Moony-knew-about-her-but-never-spilled-the-beans.

Pairings : Remus Lupin x Reader/Sirius x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied mentions of smut, and fluff.

Masterlist

Sirius is standing in the back room at Grimmauld Place, fists clenched together. He doesn’t understand a word Remus is saying. It doesn’t make any sense.

‘Why don’t you want me to see her?’

Remus shakes his head.

‘You’re so insufferable, Sirius! Don’t you understand? You’re going to put us all in danger!’

‘There’s something else,’ replies violently Sirius. ‘You’re hiding something.’

‘What would I be hiding?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, you’ve held the fact I had a daughter with Y/N for the last fourteen years from me, so, I mean, what else could you possibly hide from me?’

‘Stop it! I said I was sorry!’

Sirius shakes his head.

‘There’s something else, I know there is.’

Remus slides a nervous hand into his hair, and it clicks in Sirius’ mind. He chuckles nervously, and slaps his glass of wine on the table.

‘Tell me the truth, Remus. Did you fuck her?’

‘What?’

‘You fucked her, didn’t you? When?’

‘Sirius, this isn’t – you know – ‘

‘Did you fuck her when I was rotting in Azkaban, yes or no? It is a simple question!’ he shouts.

Defeated, Remus paces in the kitchen, sighing out loud.

‘It is not a simple answer,’ he whispers back.

‘So, you did,’ laughs Sirius agitatedly.

‘I did not f – ‘

‘Oh,’ he screams, ‘don’t you dare playing with words now, Remus; you made love, you had sex, you fucked her! Same difference!’

‘Sirius, I – ‘

Sirius is out of himself now. He can’t believe what he hears. Then it gets to him.

‘How do I know her daughter’s mine, then? How do you know she’s not yours?’

Remus’ eyes widen.

‘It happened months after your daughter was born, I didn’t even know she existed, there’s no way – ‘

‘So, you admit it.’

Remus can’t deny it anymore.

‘Stop it,’ mutters Remus, shaking his head, stepping outside the kitchen.

‘What was it?’ Sirius screams out back, following him. ‘Was it revenge? You thought I was the one that betrayed James, so you decided – ‘

‘It was nothing like that!’

‘Admit it, you were always soft for her.’

Remus is on the verge of tears now.

‘She loved you, Sirius. It was always you.’

‘So, you accidentally slipped your dick into her, is that what happened?’

‘Stop it! It happened once, years ago, and it meant nothing.’

But did it?

‘I’m very sorry Mr Lupin, we’ve tried everything. No employers want to take the risk, you know. These are odd times.’

The little man in front of Remus looks like he’s losing his patience.

‘I really need the work, Mr – ‘

‘This is my final word. I’m sorry son, but your condition, it makes you... Unreliable. If we find some new job openings what would be more suiting for you.’

‘Thank you,’ mutters he, leaving the small green office.

He doesn’t even know why he said that. Why would he be thanking him? Thank you for fucking up my life? How is he going to pay for the room he rents at the hostel now? Either he spends the remaining money he has for a shelter over his head for one last night, either to eat something tonight.

He steps out of the office, fists clenched, his head buzzing with worry. He doesn’t have anything, his friends are gone, his parents are dead, and he can’t even provide for himself. But he’s not dangerous, he thinks, he’s just got this condition... Sure, he needs a couple more of sick days than the usual wizard, but when he works, he works hard, he’s on time, he’s resourceful. However, everybody is so careful nowadays, ever since that war, ever since…

He shakes his head, tries to avoid thinking about this time of his life. He’s got so much on his mind already. He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t see the person walking in a fast pace in front of him and he slams into her violently. He looks down, surprised, and embarrassed, at the woman he just jostled. She’s surrounded by papers scattered around her, and he bends to pick them up.

‘I’m so sorry, I am so, so sorry,’ he says, panicked.

‘It’s okay, I wasn’t looking where I was going – ‘

She looks up to him and his heart jumps in his chest. The expression on her face is as shocked as his.

‘Remus?’ she asks with apprehension.

He didn’t think he would ever see her again. Ever since that horrible night. She had left the country, going back to live with her family, and never had replied to one of his many letters enquiring about her.

‘Y/N, what – ‘he’s too shocked to see her there, right in front of him. In London, nonetheless.

He looks down at the papers he’s holding for her, and it seems like he recognizes a name on one of the sheets; a petition for an appeal. But she quickly takes the papers back and places them into her black satchel. They both get back up and stay there silently, not knowing what to say to each other.

‘So, how – ‘

‘I’m sorry, I – ‘

They both look at each other awkwardly. Y/N opens her mouth.

‘How are you?’

Remus frowns. Really? Is she asking him how is he doing after all this time? He chuckles nervously.

‘I’ve been writing to you,’ he says, trying to remain calm.

‘I know, Remus – ‘

‘Two years.’

‘I know. There was a lot to deal with, you can’t understand.’

Now he’s pissed. How can she say that? She shakes her head nervously.

‘I mean, I needed time,’ she adds, looking away, embarrassed.

‘And you couldn’t reply at all telling me exactly that?’

‘Remus, I wanted to put it all behind me, and it meant leaving you behind too.’

He snorts. Of course, she had the means to do so, she had her family living miles away from London, and she had money.

‘Glad to know you cared.’

‘I cared. I still do.’

She presses her delicate hand on his arm, and he quickly stiffen at her touch. She glances down and withdraw her hand.

‘What are you doing here, Y/N? I mean in London. What are you doing in London?’

She shakes her head, and looks away.

‘Just family business. My father, he needed some files from his old department. He couldn’t come himself, so I volunteered.’

She never was a good liar. But he’s accepting her story because he doesn’t want to argue. He’s way too tired. He nods.

‘You had no intention to come and find me,’ he observes.

She sighs.

‘I wouldn’t have known where to look for you, Remus.’

She could have made some enquiries, he thinks. But she doesn’t care about him. Ever since that traitor was put into Azkaban, she abandoned her friends. She realizes how angry he is with her.

‘How can I make it up to you?’

Remus snorts.

‘It’s okay, Y/N. I really need to get going. It was nice to see you. I’m glad to know you’re doing fine.’

He starts to walk away, his fists even more clenched than minutes before. He would like to yell at her that she was cruel to leave him behind without giving him any news. They were friends.

‘Remus!’ he hears her say, and she’s running after him. She presses her hand on his arm and he stops moving.

He turns around to look at her. She hasn’t changed much. Perhaps she wears her hair a little bit shorter, perhaps she looks more tired than she used to. But at the same time, who doesn’t? She still has that confident energy. That pretty smile. That reassuring presence.

‘Can I buy you a coffee? A drink perhaps?’

She observes him attentively.

‘Dinner?’

She noticed he lost weight, he knows it. He never was really bulky, but now he’s kind of loose in his clothes. He wants to refuse, but he thinks about his hunger, about the money he doesn’t have. About his loneliness. She tries to smile reassuringly. She’s pitying him. She always has, and it pisses him off even more. He never was much more than that poor Remus with the horrible condition. He nods, and they both find themselves in a small Muggle pub not far from the Ministry. It’s getting dark outside, and he feels exhausted.

They order pints, and soon enough he’s glazing at the hamburger sitting in front of him, and the delicious chips besides the plate, and Y/N didn’t order anything to eat, and he feels bad about it, but he’s starving, and he takes his first bite and closes his eyes. This is the most delightful thing he had to eat lately. He feels already so much better. He looks up and he sees Y/N’s concerned expression. He swallows, embarrassed.

‘What were you doing at the Ministry, Remus?’

He looks down at his pint, and drinks it down in one go.

‘The usual,’ he replies, absentmindedly. ‘Begging for work, being told no. Same old.’

‘What, are they refusing you work?’

He nods.

‘Well, doesn’t look too good hiring werewolves nowadays, especially after…’ He stops mid-sentence.

He doesn’t want to go there, particularly not in front of her. She’s fiddling with her hair now, like she always used to do when she was nervous.

‘But surely,’ she replies, ‘there must be something you can do?’

‘What would I do, Y/N? I can’t force anyone to hire me. And I can’t even get a Muggle job, how would I explain to my employer that I’m going to miss certain days in the month because I need to rest after a full moon? It wouldn’t make any sense.’

‘You could…’ she’s hesitating. Is she really going to suggest he uses his magic on Muggles? After this war? As she read into his mind, she’s holding back. ‘I could put out a word to my father, you know he knows people here, he could – ‘ Remus shakes his head.

‘No, Y/N.’

She sighs, and gestures at the waitress in the back. They order two other pints, and when the fresh beverage finally sits in front of Remus, he feels relieved, the cold liquid warms his insides, and makes him feel light-headed. He stares at Y/N and her rosy cheeks.

‘Where do you live now?’ she asks him.

‘Here and there,’ he answers promptly.

She frowns.

‘Do you have a place?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Remus…’ she whispers, pressing her hand on his.

If the touch of another human being didn't make him feel so good, he would back off. How long has it been since someone touched him? Since someone looked at him like he was actually a person, and not some kind of nuisance?

‘It’s fine,’ he chuckles.

It’s not fine. It is far from being fine. But he looks already so much weak, he doesn’t want Y/N to think any less of him.

‘Where are you staying?’ he asks, switching subjects.

She sighs out loud, but smiles faintly.

‘At my sister’s. She’s away for the summer, she’s got an internship abroad, so I have the flat to myself.’

‘How is she?’ he enquires.

‘Good, she’s good. You know Matheus asked her the big question?’ she says with a wide smile.

‘Oh, really? I’m glad for them, they’re good together.’

Y/N nods.

‘Never thought my little sister would get married before I, but you know…’

She stops talking, lost in her own thoughts. Her smile fades away, and she takes a big sip of her pint.

‘Anyway,’ she sighs. ‘I never saw myself getting married.’

She smiles widely at him, and he looks down.

They order pints again, and soon enough, Remus’ feeling tipsy, and in a better mood, and he would like this night to last so he has company, and a roof over his head, and he wouldn’t have to care about where he is going to stay from now on. Y/N’s face is completely flustered, and her voice is reassuring, and she’s telling him what she does for work back in her country now, and it seems so boring, but she talks about it in a way that makes it sound so much more interesting. He could hear her speak for hours, but it’s past midnight.

‘I should go,’ she mumbles, looking for her coat on the stool next to her.

Remus’ smile faints subtly.

‘Walk with me?’ she asks.

They both leave the pub silently, and they start to walk together for a while.

‘It’s so hot tonight,’ mumbles Y/N, taking off her coat.

She slides her hand in her hair, and the comforting smell of her shampoo gets to Remus’ nostrils. She stops on the sidewalk and turns, locking eyes with him.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t write back, Remus,’ she says in a soft voice.

She looks sad.

‘That night, I -’ she’s hesitating. ‘ - I lost the person I loved most, and I thought that escaping my past would help, but I should have looked out for you.’

‘It’s okay, you did what you had to in order to cope,’ he replies.

Is he ready to forgive her absence and the lack of interest of the past two years just because she paid him dinner? Just because he feels light-headed now? She’s holding back something else, he thinks. This isn’t just about Sirius. He hisses just thinking about his name. He was supposed to be his friend, he was supposed to protect James, Lily and Harry. He fucked up everything by betraying them. He never was appreciative of what he had with Y/N. He was thinking about Hogwarts now, when he and Y/N used to study together for their exams. When they used to go to Honeydukes to indulge in chocolate while the boys were back at the Quidditch supplies store. She was a good friend to him, so why did she cut him off like that?

‘No,’ she says, biting her lip nervously. ‘I just repressed everything.’

She looks up to the building in front of them.

‘This is me,’ she says, smiling faintly.

He looks up. Of course, he thinks, her sister’s staying in a rich-looking building. In a sudden, Y/N’s eyes widen.

‘I have an idea.’

She looks excited now. Remus frowns.

‘Come with me!’ she shouts, grabbing his hand.

He finds himself inside the flat on the fourth floor, and it looks almost empty. It is way too big for just one person, and it’s so clean.

‘What do you think?’ Y/N asks, parading around the kitchen and the living room. ‘There’s the kitchen, and this is the dining room. Out back there’s a bedroom, and a small study, and you’ve got the bathroom on your right,’ she says, pointing at the door next to him.

‘It’s brilliant,’ he mumbles.

He realizes how they are worlds apart.

‘Great!’ she says, tossing a key in his direction.

‘What is this?’ he asks, confused.

‘You can stay here while my sister is away,’ Y/N says with a wide smile on her face. ‘I mean, this flat is empty for the whole summer, you could stay here, it would give you some time to get back on your feet.’

‘Y/N, I couldn’t possibly – ‘

‘Remus, I insist. I’m getting back home tomorrow, you won’t be disturbed. And she will be thrilled to know there is someone to keep an eye on the place. Please.’

He feels overwhelmed. Sure, he’s relieved, but he never liked being pitied. He feels like a failure who needs charity to survive.

‘Why would you do this for me, Y/N?’ he asks.

She raises her shoulders, stepping in front of him.

‘You’re my friend. I care about you.’

‘If you cared, you would have found a way to let me know you were okay.’

She sighs.

‘There are things I can’t talk about, Remus. And I truly hope someday I will be able to talk about them. But for now, you’ll have to accept that I am sorry about everything.’

‘You don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth…’ he replies, defeated.

‘I trust you, Remus! I always have trusted you.’

‘Is that why you were appealing his case?’ he replies harshly. ‘I saw the papers, I saw the petition, Y/N, you still think he’s innocent.’

‘You don’t understand!’

‘Oh, I understand quite right! You can’t accept he’s betrayed our friends, you can’t accept he’s not the perfect man you always thought he was! He had flaws too, Y/N!’

‘I know he had flaws! I’m in a good position to know he had many of them!’ she replies, angrily.

Perhaps he’s jealous, yes. The fact that Sirius Black is rotting in a cell back in Azkaban doesn’t change anything; he envies him still. How can she still be fighting for that man when she knows what he has done to them?

‘They denied the appeal, are you happy?’ she shouts, she’s crying now. ‘They refuted the petition for a fair trial, and it was my last attempt. I’m on my own, now, unless someone else petitions. I’m on my own.’

Remus shakes his head.

‘You never were on your own. But I can’t help you with that, you know I can’t.’

‘I know,’ she replies, wiping her tears away. ‘For Godric’s sake, I’m such a mess. I shouldn’t have fallen in love with him. Look where it got me.’

She laughs nervously in an attempt to release the tension. There’s an unbearable silence now. Y/N takes a deep breath and steps towards him.

‘I wish I had fallen in love with you first, Remus.’

He frowns. What the hell is she talking about? She grabs his hand and stare into his eyes.

‘You were the right pick from the beginning, and I did feel something for you... But, what I felt for Sirius, it was just, magnetic, I can’t explain it. I do love you, I always did. And it is why I left. I know you would have done the right thing if I had stayed, and I didn’t want to impose this on you.’

‘Impose what?’ cries Remus. He’s so confused. ‘What right thing?’

‘I can’t say.’

‘For Merlin’s sake, Y/N…’

‘I wish I had fallen in love with you when the time was right, I wish I had…’

She slides her fingers on his arm and rests her head on his chest. He can’t help but press a gentle kiss on the top of her head while she’s sobbing in his arms. The world seems to stop. He slides his fingers into the length of her hair, they’re both feeling empty, and lonely, and they’re both lost souls in the need of something more, something that would help them cope with the dread they are constantly feeling. The Dark Lord has been defeated, the world got back to normal, but not for them. This war will never be over for them. It left them with scars and shattered hearts. She looks up and presses her gentle lips on his, and he can taste the salt of her tears on her mouth, and his own tears are blending into their embrace, and she’s now gripping his shirt, pulling him closer to her, he’s here, he’s right here, he’s not going anywhere, but she’s leaving tomorrow, and this is goodbye.

Y/N pulls up his shirt and she runs her fingers on the healed wounds that crosses his stomach, and presses kisses on them, softly, marking each one of them.

‘Y/N,’ he whispers, taking her hands, trying to stop her. ‘What are you doing?’

She shakes her head.

‘I don’t know,’ she replies, removing her shirt as well.

She loves Sirius, she always will love him, no matter the horrible things he’s done in the past, no matter if he lives or not, she’ll love him until she doesn’t exist anymore, and Remus can’t be doing that with her if her heart is someone’s else, but he wants to, he craves the comfort, and he desires her, and she wants him too.

‘Don’t say anything, please,’ she says as she steps towards him to unbuckle his pants, and he sighs, and he lets her do it, he doesn’t have the strength to refuse her and to push her away; nor he wants to do so.

But how could someone like Y/N wants to be intimate with someone like him? Perhaps with her eyes closed, she will pretend he’s someone else, perhaps she’s already thinking about Sirius, and Remus is only the bridge between the two of them.

‘Y/N, wait,’ he moans, as she presses her lips on his. ‘Look at me.’

She does so, and her eyes looks bright now, as the veil of sadness over them has lifted for a moment.

‘I’m not Sirius,’ he says.

‘I know,’ she acknowledges. ‘I don’t want you to be. I want you, Remus. Just you. Just for one night.’

He chuckles.

‘You said you were leaving tomorrow,’ he whispers.

She’s staring at him, and she’s on the verge of tears, but there’s a softness about her, a resilience. She’s at peace, so should he be.

‘You’re not ever coming back, are you?’

‘This is farewell, Remus.’

To be continued? Or noooot.

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slytherinspired · 3 years

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Firsts - A Sirius Black Imagine

Pairings : Young Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings : smut, obviously, unprotected sex, swearing, smoking, alcohol and mild drug use.

Hi love! I did it! Beware, it is quite long, I sort of took the liberty to provide some context, but I hope you'll like it! :)

Masterlist

Sirius is looking back at himself in the mirror, wincing at his reflection. He recognizes his traits sparingly; his dark curls falling to his shoulders, his mocking smirk, his overall nonchalant expression. He knows who he is, but the clothes on his back are completely robbing him of his own identity. He glances bitterly at his beloved leather coat sitting on the back of his desk chair and sighs. The ridiculous black suit he’s wearing barely fits him. He knows it probably used to belong to one of his distant cousins and that it has been quickly and grossly recut to fit him by the house-elf. His parents are downstairs in the drawing room, waiting for him to join them so they can leave for this stupid reception.

He doesn’t even know what it is about, except that he’s going to this apparent important new Ministry guy’s house who threw a sort of lame introduction party, since he just arrived in London with his family. And what he knows is that he’s going to spend the whole night with the type of people he doesn’t want to be assimilated with. From what he heard, the host of the reception just arrived at the Ministry of Magic to help with the passing of some bill for Muggleborn regulations, as awful as it sounds. He’d like to avoid to go, but Walburga has the upper hand on him, and nothing in the world would convince his dear mother to leave her eldest son behind, knowing full well that if she does so, Sirius is going to get the fuck out of there and join these Muggles mingling Potters fools.

‘You look dapper,’ says a soft voice behind him.

Standing in the doorway, Sirius’ youngest brother observes him, grinning.

‘Shut up,’ he replies, annoyed by the stupid smile on Regulus’ face.

His brother crosses his arms and steps into his bedroom. He looks around like he just stepped into some kind of freak show. His gaze rests a little longer on a certain poster. Sirius glances at the Muggle woman dressed in a revealing red swimsuit standing straight in the middle of the picture. He smirks, and caught-red handed, Regulus turns away quickly. She always was his brother's favourite, after all. Whether he wants to admit it or not.

‘Are you going to behave this time?’ he asks, stepping in front of his eldest brother.

Sirius shrugs, trying to adjust the bowtie strangling him. For Merlin’s sake, he thinks, it feels like he’s suffocating already.

‘I always behave, brother dear,’ he replies, trying to undo the knot around his neck. ‘I just don’t behave the way they’d like me to,' referring to their parents.

Regulus shakes his head and starts fiddling with his brother’s bowtie and adjust it perfectly in one fell swoop, as if it were child’s play. Once the knot is properly buckled, he taps Sirius’ chest in an encouraging gesture, and frowns when he feels something hard hidden in the inside pocket of his brother’s vest.

‘Really?’ he asks.

Sirius snorts.

‘Just a bit of courage,’ he admits.

‘And how much courage did you drink already?’

‘Not enough, apparently,’ Sirius replies, thinking about the full flask of warm whiskey tucked inside his suit.

He’d honestly rather be stuck in detention with Snivellus for the rest of his existence then go to this lame-ass party. That alone justifies the whiskey amply.

After a few detours in the city, he finds himself in front of an imposing white manor situated in one of London’s richest Square. Oh, this is going to be a long night, he thinks. Not only it seems like the host is wizard-rich, but he’s also everything rich, period. He rolls his eyes, there’s no issue. Walburga is pressing her long and emaciated fingers into his son’s arm as they step into the great hall of the house. The interior is as posh as the exterior, with its grand marble staircase curving up to the upper floor and its giant diamond-like chandelier hanging over their heads. For God’s sake, is it a live classical assemble he hears playing in the back? As his mother pushes him further inside, the sound of light chatter reaches his ears. He sees his father, dressed in his horrible robes, already on his way to speak with some old acquaintances, quickly followed by Regulus. He scans the principal room for a quiet corner, but it’s filled with this bunch of pricks, and he’s fighting with all his might the panic that is taking over his mind. He finally spots a free corner next to a big window and he walks straight ahead in that direction, hoping no one will recognize him on the way.

‘I heard his son has found some work as a doctor,’ he hears a shrill voice say.

‘A Muggle doctor? How peculiar!’ says another voice.

This is exactly the kind of chatter Sirius doesn’t want to hear. In no way he thinks he’s superior because he was graced with magic powers at birth. It is so suffocating, and he feels so incredibly small and inadequate, drowning in this sea of close-minded guests.

He studies them, recognizes some familiar faces from Hogwarts, but most of them are Slytherins and are not close at all to use them as an escape. A waiter walks in front of him, holding a tray where champagne flutes fill themselves up. He grabs one and drink it in one sip. He’s already quite tipsy, but he doesn’t care. He’d rather be intoxicated right now to bury this hatred deep within. God, he needs air.

He sees Walburga looking for him in the room, and she’s walking next to a tall and handsome man. For Godric’s sake, why is she walking straight in his direction? The man next to her doesn’t look as old as his mother, but the grey strands in his black hair betrays his age. He looks posh, and haughty.

‘This is my eldest son, Sirius,’ says his mother in a toneless voice. ‘Sirius, this his our host, Mr Santorini.’

‘Pleased to meet your, Mr Black,’ says the man while he extends his hand.

Sirius gets up on his feet, subtly struggling to find his balance, under the duo’s concerned stare. He rapidly and weakly shakes the man’s hand and nods. Ashamed, Walburga shoots darts at her son and quickly turns away from him.

‘My youngest, Regulus, is doing quite well at Hogwarts, see, he’s - ...’ her voice fades away.

Sirius closes his eyes; he needs to find some distraction. And what could be better than the little thing he has brought to the party that is currently hidden in his pocket behind the whiskey flask? He needs to feel something else than the dreadful thoughts he has right now. He struts to the giant marble staircase and finds his way on the upper level without attracting attention to him. That is one advantage when no one cares about you; not being seen. The voices downstairs are slowly fading away and he feels already so much better.

He runs a nervous hand in his dark locks, feeling quite hot, with this bowtie strangling him. There must be a door leading outside. He tries to open the first one on his right, but the handle doesn’t bulge; it’s locked. And Walburga has confiscated his wand at the beginning of the summer upon his return from Hogwarts, so there’s no use. He sighs and adventures further away in the hall.

He has more luck with the second door, and finds himself into a deserted bedroom. His eyes make out the giant bed over the central wall of the room, and spots some sealed boxes on the floor. The translucent curtains discreetly veil the large windows in front of him, and he opens one widely and lights himself a cigarette without a care, pacing into the room nervously. He sees some pictures resting on a vintage dresser on the opposite wall. There are rows of books in the built-in bookcases, and even some disperse vinyls taking up some of the space. He’s clearly trespassing someone’s intimacy, but whose? Sirius walks to the dresser and opens up the first drawer. A tickling feeling in his stomach at the sight of the several underwear – even in the darkness – makes him wonder how long has it been since he’s been intimate with someone. The last time was before school ended, with Mallory, and it was just snogging. He never went all the way... He chuckles discreetly at the thought and taps the ashes of his cigarette on the floor. Fuck this house, fuck this bedroom, and fuck this posh Pureblood family.

‘Mm, mm.’

Someone has cleared their throat behind him. He jumps, and tries to hide the cigarette away.

‘Please, don’t stop for me,’ says a girl in the doorway.

He can’t make up her traits in the darkness, but she sounds young. She steps right in front of him.

‘I don’t think you should be up here,’ she says.

He feels like a child, caught red-handed. He feels suddenly very trapped.

‘I heard the owner of this house is quite severe,’ she adds, taking the cigarette away from him, inhaling the smoke into her lungs, and exhaling. ‘If he found us in his daughter’s room, I think he’d torture us without any remorse.’

‘His daughter’s room?’ he replies nervously.

She nods, giving him back his cigarette.

‘A real pest.’

There is an awkward silence.

‘What were you doing here?’ she adds.

‘Looking for a way out,’ he replies in all honesty. ‘What about you?’

‘Just about the same.’ She glances at the cigarette. ‘You might want to put it out now.’

‘I really don’t,’ he replies, taking one last whiff, ‘but when do I get what I want anyway?’

He throws it on the hard-wood floor indifferently and follows the stranger in the hallway. She turns around to take a good look at him.

‘I’m Y/N, by the way – ‘

He feels like his legs are going to flinch. He doesn’t know if it’s the sudden nicotine rush, or the champagne mixed with the whiskey, or the lights in the hallway shinning over Y/N’s green doe eyes staring at him, or her long black hair waving on her back, or her delicious pink lips, or the gentle freckles on her nose, but he’s suddenly feeling quite light-headed.

‘You okay there?’ she laughs. ‘What’s your name?’

He shakes his head, trying to regain his thoughts.

‘I’m, er. I’m Si – ‘should he really tell her his real name? ‘I’m Sid.’

‘Sid,’ she repeats. ‘Well, Sid, you don’t look too good.’

‘I don’t feel too good,’ he admits.

Her expression changes. She’s not amused anymore. She’s pitying him.

‘Follow me,’ she says, grabbing his hand like she has known him forever, dragging him to the end of the wall where they cross a door and end up on a small balcony overlooking the deserted garden.

‘How to you know this place?’ he asks, resting his arms on the guardrail, humming the fresh crisp air.

‘Hung out with the pest earlier,’ she replies.

‘Not anymore?’

‘Told you, she’s a pest. I can’t leave, though. I’m sort of stuck here.’

‘So am I.’

She laughs lightly. The moonlight shines on her beautiful face, and her traits are so soft, and if he was much more like himself, he’d try to charm her the way he knows how.

‘So, Sid. What are we avoiding?’ she asks away.

‘My parents, I guess,’ he replies, taking out the flask of whiskey of his pocket.

He takes a big sip and hands it to her. She considers it for a moment and grabs it. The wind flies through her hair, and her perfume reaches his nostrils, a perfectly well-balanced mix of vanilla and gentle notes of citrus. The fragrance shoots up his nose and wafts around his brain. Fuck, she’s so beautiful.

‘What about them?’ she asks away, wincing when she swallows the liquor.

He snorts. He doesn’t want to talk about his parents right now. Not when the prettiest girl he’s ever seen is standing right in front of him. He has something else on his mind now.

‘Your accent,’ he says, switching subjects. ‘It’s not from here.’

Y/N nods.

‘I grew up all over the place, but mostly America.’

‘You don’t sound American.’

She smiles, revealing a straight row of perfectly pearly white teeth.

‘My family, we’re from Sicily.’

He nods.

‘It’s in Italy – ‘

‘I know where Sicily is, I’m not stupid,’ he replies harshly, a bit offended.

But Y/N chuckles lightly, and her soft laugh brings his attitude down. He can’t help but stare at her. She’s a bit overdressed to his taste, but hey, so is he. He wonders what is hiding underneath that navy dress of hers, and if her skin is as soft as he imagines it is. He needs to calm down.

‘First time in London, then?’

She nods.

‘What do you think?’ he asks, locking eyes with her.

She licks her lower lip without realizing it.

‘Well, I don’t hate the accent,’ she teases.

Praised be Godric.

‘Tell me, Sid, you seem to be about my age, yet you’re drunk like an old man with a drinking problem, and you probably smoke like a city boy. I keep wondering if I really should be alone with you right now.’

‘Are you afraid?’ he asks.

She shakes her head.

‘Rarely.’

‘To be honest, Y/N,’ he says, pronouncing every syllable of her name like he could actually taste it, ‘I was alone up there to find a quiet spot for this.’

He shows up the joint between his fingers. She squints for a short moment and smiles.

‘I see.’

Y/N’s eyes bored into him. He wonders if he has crossed a line. He barely knows her, after all.

‘Let’s go somewhere more private, then,’ she suggests, grabbing his hand. He doesn’t even have the time to appreciate the softness of her skin when he feels himself disapparating, his body swirling in every direction, and a sudden urge of panic takes hold off him. When he reapparates in a loud pop, he shouts:

‘What the hell are you doing? Are you bloody insane?’

‘What, did you never apparate before?’

‘Yes, I did but -,’ he is freaking out, Walburga must think he’s left and is probably fulminating. ‘My mother, she’s going to hex me! Bring us back!’

‘Why?’ Eliana asks, intrigued. ‘How would she know?’

Sirius shakes his head nervously.

‘She placed some sort of charm on me, I’m not allowed to leave her sight. If she knows I left the premises, she’ll find me and – ‘

He stops himself from saying too much. Perhaps it would be a bit intense to share with the girl what would Walburga do to him. At least, he wouldn’t have to explain the healing bruises on his ribcage.

‘Relax, Sid. We’re still on the premises.’

He looks around and spots the house in the distance through a small window. Are they in some sort of guest house? A garden shed? There is nothing around him, he’s just standing on a mat. Relieved, he sits down, running a hand in his hair. Y/N joins him and creates a small fire by flicking her wand, enough to dimly light the room they are in.

‘You’re actually scared of your parents. Why?’

Sirius chuckles. He’s not scared, he’s terrified of them. She points out the little stick he forgot he was holding between his fingers.

‘Shall we?’ she suggests.

‘Who says I want to share?’

She pouts adorably. He lights it up and he takes a good breath of the substance and exhales slowly, indulging the heavy smoke, his lungs burning, and a light sensation rushes to his head. Them Muggles can also do magic, he thinks to himself. Under her curious eyes, he passes the stick in her delicate hands, and observes her. Her delicious lips reach it, and she slowly breathes it in. She starts coughing, tears running to her eyes.

‘Wait,’ he laughs, ‘is this your first time?’

She presses her hand to her rounded chest, laughing uncontrollably. Sirius shakes his head, following her laugh, and explains to her how to actually get the smoke to her lungs.

‘There, yes – keep it still a second, let it -, yes, good,’ it’s like teaching children how to mount a broom, ‘and exhale. Brilliant.’

He waits a second before taking another whiff. Y/N’s mouth curves into a smile and she closes her eyes slowly.

‘Oh,’ she exhales, ‘this is – ‘

‘I know,’ replies Sirius, smiling. ‘I know.’

‘Oh,’ she repeats.

He stares at her, admiring her delicate features. Her eyes are still closed and he sees her falling on her back, completely relaxed. If his mother saw him right now, smoking pot with a random girl he met at this rich guy’s party, she’d have a good reason to use the Cruciatus curse on him for once. Or she’d cut his head before he could say he’s sorry. He decides to join Y/N and rests his back on the floor. He lays his head just beside hers and fixes the ceiling. He feels better now, and it’s not just the drugs.

‘I feel so heavy,’ she says, sliding her hands on her naked arms.

She turns her head and looks at him.

‘Do you feel heavy?’

‘Kind of,’ he laughs.

He doesn’t particularly feel heavy. In fact, he feels relieved, and mostly, he feels horny. Good god.

‘What is there to do in London at night?’ she asks.

‘Mm,’ he hesitates. ‘Pubs, clubs, walking around Southbank, I guess.’

‘Never went to a pub,’ she admits.

He wants to run his finger on her cheek. He wants to grab her face and press his lips on hers.

‘You’re kidding,’ he replies, still fixing that beautiful mouth of hers.

She shakes her head lightly, and a stroke of her long hair falls in her eyes. Her little red stained eyes. He smiles at the view, and slowly leans closer, replacing the stroke of black hair behind her ear.

‘I’ll bring you to a pub, one day,’ he mutters, daydreaming out loud.

‘Wouldn’t you mother kill you if you did?’ she jokes.

‘She would. It would be worth the risk, though.’

She turns on her stomach and rests her head on her hands. He keeps staring at her, detailing everything.

‘What are you looking at?’ she chuckles.

‘Just admiring the view,’ he replies frankly.

She would blush if she wasn’t all flustered already. There’s an odd adrenaline spluttering inside of him as he feels her close, and his pulse quickens and he’s feeling so hot right now, he’s melting into the rug. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and they both enjoy it for a couple of minutes. There is something about this girl, this nonchalant attitude, and her mesmerizing eyes, and her accent, and the way her body moves when she finally sits down again, pulling her dress over her thighs to sit comfortably, making him lose his fucking mind. If he weren’t so distracted by her presence, he’d be sweet talking to her, like he’s so used to do with other girls. But he’s simply incapable of doing so, like she’s robbed him of his means.

‘We should go back, they’re going to be looking for us,’ she whispers, showing him her hand to help him sit back.

But he doesn’t want to go back and mingle with the people he hates. He wants to be alone with her, if it is just to stay motionless on this rug in her company. He takes her hand and sits back up, and their eyes lock again, and they stare at each other, and he’s wondering if he’s hallucinating someone so perfect to help him cope with this emptiness he feels all the time. She absentmindedly licks her lips, taunting him, and he has to remind himself how to breathe, as his lips quirk hesitantly, sighing out loud to stop himself from pining her underneath him.

‘Yeah,’ he stutters, like a fucking coward, and then he clears his throat and steadies his pulse and sternly instructs himself to get it together, dude. James would be laughing at him if he saw him right now.

But they both stay there, motionless. He can feel the drugs running away from his bloodstream, he’s on another high now, another rush, and it has nothing to do with it. He can’t stop staring at her lips. Her expression washes over him in waves, and he pins a hesitant smile on his face, hoping it will distract her from the bulge growing down there.

‘Or we could just, you know, stay here for a while,’ she suggests.

For fuck’s sake.

He’s only able to gulp and nod, his cock painfully growing thick through the fabric. He tries to hide the bump by placing his arm over his legs, but instead it catches her attention down there, and her eyes quickly spots it, but she innocently acts like she’s unaware of the effect she has on him. If he could only smack his lips on hers.

Her emerald eyes are wide open, she leans in and presses her soft lips on his, and he’s never felt so relieved in his entire life, her mouth is warm and soft, and he can actually run his hands in her soft hair, and he can hear his heart hammering in his ears, and she actually lets out a discreet moan in his mouth, and fuck, there he is, gone, he knows there is no way back from there.

He feels her hands slowly unbuckling his belt and removing those atrocious trousers, and he follows through, pulling up her dress to reveal her skin. He removes his shirt, he has dreamt all night to rip it off his body from the second he put it on, and now she’s pushing him on his back on the hard rug and places kisses in the crook of his neck, sliding her tongue all the way down, and he knows where she’s heading, but he can’t let her do that, or he’s going to cum already. He grabs her head softly, and while he’s busy sticking his tongue into her mouth, he’s unclasps her top, tosses it on the floor, and starts licking her round breasts, circling her hard nipples with his tongue. He realizes it is actually the first time he’s allowed to touch naked breasts, and Merlin, this is so much better when there’s no fabric covering them.

He pins her small body under him, and he slowly moves down on her. He admires her ribcage moving up and down, and he can hears her heavy breathing, and he feels like he can’t hold it anymore. He runs his lips on her skin, down her stomach, to the birth of her underwear, pulling them down very gently. Sirius can’t believe he just met her a couple of hours ago; he feels like he has been desiring her for an eternity. There was a before her, and there’s now – and all the shit he’s been dealing with since school ended is now tucked away in the back of his mind. He caresses with his lips the soft bump between her legs, indulging the new sensation, and then just takes a mouthful of her sex. Her breathing stops, her ribcage is suspended for a second, and then she breathes out and grabs the back of his head while he tastes her. It’s sweet, and warm, and wet, and salty at the same time, and it’s so fucking good.

She’s squirming and writhing beneath him, her subtle moans amplifying. The gasps she makes sends sparks of unbearable pleasure through him, and he feels dizzy, like his heart is about to explode, ready to jump out of his chest at any moment. He slides one finger into her, and then another, and she spams around his fingers. He observes her perfect body tensing at his touch, cupping one breast with one hand while she orgasms into his mouth, her fluids mixing with his saliva. Her face is flushed and her pupils are dilated, and he could very well be on this high for the rest of his existence. But she places kisses on his lips, tasting herself on him, and his cock is so hard, he can’t help but groan when he feels her hand grabs his sex through the fabric of his underwear, slowly stroking him. It is pure torture.

He feels the small piece of clothing covering him sliding down his legs, and he kicks it on the floor. She stares at him in the eyes and licks her fingers, then moves her hand down there again, gently applying pressure on his hard-on. Sirius’ head tilt to the back, blood rushes through him. That is a different story when it’s someone’s else hand, isn’t?

She lays down in front of him, and he follows her as she guides is cock at the entrance of her sex, and it’s so wet, how is he going to pull through? He’s shaking with apprehension but pure pleasure. She suddenly frowns.

‘Wait,’ she hesitates, ‘is this your first time?’

He nods. There’s so point in lying.

‘Do you want to stop?’

Of course, he doesn’t want to stop. He shakes his head, and her face lits up.

They kiss and he presses the tip of his cock into her, slowly, to get every sensation right, and he closes his eyes and, oh this feels so fucking good, and he can’t help but exhales of relief when he feels the warmth, and he hears her gasping underneath him. He’s sinking into her, and she pushes his length even farther by raising her hips. Why does it feel so good? He starts to pace inside her, like he has known what to do forever, increasing the tempo, and she moans under him. He moves swiftly now, trying with all his might to not just release himself off the pressure. She throws her head back into the rug, he feels sweat pearling at the birth of his forehead, his locks fall into his eyes, and he accelerates his pace and presses her legs on her stomach, and oh my god, this is even better.

She presses her right hand on his chest, running her fingers over his hard stomach, avoiding the bruises, detailing each parcel of his body. She looks back up and pushes her lips on his, and their tongues meet, and he’s completely melting into her. She finally bucks her hips tightly and Sirius hisses, he can’t hold up anymore. Oh, he wants to hear her say his name – if only he had given his real one – but she lets a loud ‘fuck’ escape her mouth, and she’s damp with sweat, and he never seen something so beautiful, he slams into her harder and faster, he groans while his grip tightens around her delicate waist. He feels almost he’s in pain and something stronger than life itself is burning him; yes, he’s burning up down there, he can’t hold it anymore, his whole body is on fire, he glances at her one last time, and he lets out a guttural growl, while feeling his insides pushing his soul out, and for a short moment, he thinks he’s dying, spilling his warm seed into her, filling her up while’s he petrified, hanging between dream and reality, thinking his heart stopped beating.

It is only half an hour later that he comes back to the manor, flustered and feeling out of his body, followed by Y/N. She’s even prettier under the warm lights, blushed cheeks, and he relives in his mind what just happened over and over again. That wasn’t bad for a first time, he thinks.

‘Y/N! Papà has been looking for you forever, where were you?’, a young girl is staring at her.

She shares similar traits with Y/N, but she looks younger, about Regulus’ age. Her arms are crossed, and she observes Sirius oddly, in a manner that makes him believe she can easily guess what Y/N was doing all the time they’ve been away.

‘Where is he?’ asks Y/N.

The young girl points at the host, the man he shook hands with earlier, speaking with Sirius’ father and a couple of older men in the corner of the room.

‘Clara,’ mumbles Y/N with a threatening expression. ‘non dire niente a Papà.’

The young girl rolls her eyes and leaves them. Sirius frowns. Wait a minute, is this girl...

‘Didn’t you tell me the host’s daughter was -’ he mumbles, feeling his hands becoming moist.

‘A pest,’ she smiles. ‘My sister.’

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